


Everybody wants some, I want some too

by pallasathene



Category: Everybody Wants Some!! (2016)
Genre: 1980 US Presidential Election, Anal Fingering, Baseball, Chastity Device, College, Cunnilingus, Depression, F/M, Face-Sitting, Femdom, Masturbation, Misunderstandings, Orgasm Denial, Pegging, Spanking, Strap-Ons, small penis humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-12 23:55:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11747829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pallasathene/pseuds/pallasathene
Summary: I got really inspired by the final scene of Everybody Wants Some!! and this is what came from that.





	1. Prologue

August, 1980

 

‘Sounds like you rocked it last night,’ Plummer said as Jake sat down next to him in the lecture theatre.

‘How’d you do?’ replied Jake.

‘Not bad. Ended up with that tall chick in the leather, you know, Deborah? Yeah, she’s a senior...’ Plummer hoped his smile didn’t look as strained as it felt as Jake grinned and punched his arm in congratulations. ‘She’s not actually, like, a dominatrix, you know…’ he said hastily. ‘I didn’t get beat up or anything. We had ourselves a good old time.’

Plummer trailed off and shifted in his seat, partly out of nervousness, but partly because his butt still kinda fucking hurt after last night. The chick didn’t even want to fuck – and he gets it, some girls are prudes about that kind of thing – but she just wanted to make out with him and spank his ass. Hard. Pretty fucking weird if you asked him. Even fucking weirder that he had had the biggest orgasm ever when he got home, like the kind of fireworks, forget where you are, moan loud enough to wake the neighbours orgasm they write about in the sort of romance novels his mom read. He had to put it out of his mind, maybe concentrate on the lecture. Nah, scratch that, he thought as his eyelids drooped. The first day of college was clearly a lost cause.


	2. Chapter 1

It was Deborah’s last September of college, and it was going pretty well so far. She’d signed up to all her classes, started on her reading, and she had a couple of gigs coming up to look forward to. On Monday after her first classes, she went to the supermarket to get the food she needed for the week, then headed home.

She sat down at her desk and opened her history textbook. The election of 1800. She read about Jefferson and Adams and Burr for a few minutes before her mind started drifting. She was kind of horny, actually. There was a warmth and pressure in her crotch that wasn’t letting her concentrate on any of these dead guys. She sighed. No studying for now, it seemed. She let her mind wander through images. Another pair of lips on hers. Running her hand up someone’s thigh as they kissed. Touching a girl’s wet pussy. That guy from the other night whose ass she’d spanked. What was his name? Tyrone Plummer, that was it. Some freshman baseball jock. Cute ass though. And she loved that wide eyed look guys got the first time a girl took charge of them. It was part surprise, part embarrassment and wondering what this meant for their masculinity, part arousal at having a girl with them at all. And sometimes it was something more than that, something that said that this was what they had always wanted, but had never been able to admit to. Deborah saw a bit of that in Tyrone.

She shifted further down in her seat, putting her hand in her underwear and combing her hair out of the way with her fingers. She gathered some of the wetness and started rubbing her clitoris, remembering how it felt to kiss Tyrone hard while her hand spanked his cute round ass. She wondered if it was that nice because of all the baseball. Apparently hockey players had the best butts of all, but as there wasn’t a team at the college she believed that the best butts on campus had to be the football players, although she hadn’t managed to snag one of them so far. Fuck she was horny. She started rubbing her sensitive clit in a circular motion, imagining a guy at her feet, worshipping her, their bodies together, his beneath hers, until she came in a rush of pleasure and euphoria.

***

‘I really don’t understand this class,’ Deborah’s friend Lori was saying. ‘Professor Handcock speaks so slowly. You’d think that would help with getting notes down and stuff, but it just sends me to sleep.’ Lori fumbled with her bag as she put her stuff away. It was noon, and they had finally been released onto the quad after a two-hour long lecture. ‘It’s like I zone out as soon as he opens his mouth,’ she continued. ‘I feel like Sleeping Beauty or something.’

‘Do you want to compare notes?’ said Deborah. ‘Mine are shit, but maybe if enough of us get together and share them we’ll be able to piece together the lectures.’ She gave what she hoped was an encouraging smile.

‘That would be great, when do you want to do that? I’m kinda busy with the swim team, but-’ Lori paused, distracted. ‘I think someone’s staring at you, Deborah…’

Deborah raised her eyebrows and turned to where Lori was looking. Tyrone Plummer was standing awkwardly, several feet away. He started to come over.

‘Oh, hey Deborah,’ he said, giving her a smile he probably would have chosen to describe as ‘roguish’, and offering a nod to Lori. ‘How’s it going?’

‘Pretty good. Lori, this is Tyrone. We met at a party last week.’ Lori and Plummer shook hands.

Turning back to Deborah, Plummer said ‘The college cinema is showing The Empire Strikes Back again. Do you want to come along?’

‘What is that?’ asked Deborah.

‘It’s Star Wars,’ said Plummer, looking incredulous. ‘You must know that.’

Deborah shrugged. ‘I don’t know about that, but if you’re going to Bryan’s Bar this weekend, I might be around.’

Plummer nodded at her and headed inside. Lori watched his retreating figure with interest, then turned back to Deborah. ‘So?’ she asked.

‘He’s just some guy I made out with at Oz,’ said Deborah.

‘He seems into you,’ said Lori. ‘And he’s cute. Is he an athlete?’

‘Yeah, baseball.’

‘Wow. Are you going to go after him?’

‘I don’t know. We’ll see,’ said Deborah. ‘I do think he’s cute though,’ she admitted. ‘Did you hear his voice though?’

Lori giggled. ‘Yeah, what’s with that? Is he putting it on?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Deborah, giggling too. ‘He sounds like a parody of a stoned person.’

***

That weekend, Deborah went to Bryan’s Bar with a couple of friends, and then on to a party held by…well, Deborah was never quite sure. A friend of a friend, or perhaps a friend’s ex’s old roommate. Either way, the house was packed, the alcohol was flowing freely, and the air was thick with smoke. A kid in glasses and a hat seemed to be in charge of music, and he guarded the boom box with the possessiveness of a jealous lover. The stack of tapes on the floor next to it presumably belonged to him, and if you wanted to choose a song you had to sort through them under his judgemental gaze, his narrowed eyes shaded by the brim of his hat. Deborah’s friend Lori held up a Joan Jett tape, and was subjected to a three-minute-long lecture on the album’s themes and influences, and whether its musical style would be cohesive with the rest of the music played that night. In the meantime, the previous song ended, leaving the party goers standing listless and confused in the silence.

At around 1am, Deborah came across Plummer lounging on a sofa, talking to two women.

‘Hey Deb, how are you? These are my friends Cathy and June.’

‘My name is Deborah,’ she told him. Hey, is he bothering you?’ she said to Cathy and June.

‘I’m not bothering anyone. Just having a conversation,’ said Plummer. ‘Cathy and June and I were just saying how we should go upstairs and have some fun.’

‘Um, no we weren’t,’ said Cathy. ‘You’re such a pervert, Plummer.’

‘Come on, let’s go,’ said June, and the two left the sofa.

‘Is this because I rejected your Star Wars date idea?’ asked Deborah.

‘No,’ said Plummer. ‘I’m just…playing the field. Nothing to do with you, man. Flat chested chicks like you aren’t my type anyway.’ He glared at her. ‘Cathy and June are meant to be grade-A sluts, I can’t believe you ruined that for me.’

‘How about you come upstairs. I’ll show you fun,’ said Deborah.

Plummer’s eyes widened. ‘Seriously?’

Deborah shrugged. ‘Why not?’ She held out her hand and Plummer took it, letting himself be led upstairs.

The corridor was quite dark, with only thin strips of light and quiet giggles and moans emerging from under the doors that lined it. Deborah led Plummer to a dark door at the end of the corridor, and opened it. They switched the light on and made their way to the bed, and she began kissing him.

‘Want me to…want me to fuck you?’ he said.

Deborah pulled away. ‘Oh no,’ she said. ‘You need to learn some respect for women.’

‘Right, right,’ he said. ‘Respect for women. Pussy power.’

‘Shut up,’ she said, and kissed him. ‘You can start by shutting up and doing as I say.’

Plummer gave her that wide eyed look again, which made her smile and long to have him naked and compliant beneath her.

‘Lie down,’ Deborah told him, and he did so. She straddled him and leaned down to kiss him again. ‘Is this good?’ she asked.

‘Yeah,’ he nodded.

‘Take your shirt off for me,’ she told him, and he did so. She leaned down again to land some kisses on his shoulders and chest. She rose back up to survey him, pushing her long hair out of the way. He had a nice body – muscular, but soft. Deborah decided to take her own top off, throwing it beside the bed. She could see that Plummer was itching to touch her breasts, but was instead lying back and waiting for her instructions instead, which was pretty hot, in her opinion.

She leaned down to kiss him again, caressing his arms and chest as she did so. She could feel that he was hard in his pants, but when she reached to unbutton them, he told her to stop.

She took her hands off him. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Maybe we’re going too fast,’ Plummer said.

‘Ok, we can slow down. We can just kiss.’

‘No, I…I want to. Let’s turn the lights out. It’s more romantic.’

‘But we won’t be able to see anything,’ said Deborah.

‘I’m cold, let’s get under the covers,’ said Plummer.

‘Tyrone, what are you trying to hide?’

‘Nothing,’ said Plummer, not meeting her eyes. ‘Come here, I’ll fuck you doggy style.’

Deborah snorted. ‘Shut the fuck up. Take your pants off.’

Plummer’s hands moved to the waistband of his pants, but he didn’t pull them down.

‘Is this what you were going to do once you got those two girls up here? Those ‘sluts’ that you thought you had a chance with? What’s wrong, do you have a small dick or something?’

‘No, it’s huge!’

Deborah laughed. ‘Based on what I can see of your bulge I think we can rule that out.’

‘I’m just not fully hard yet,’ said Plummer. ‘If you suck on it it’ll get twice as big, you’ll see.’

‘You know I’m not going to do that,’ said Deborah. ‘Come on, just take your pants off.’

Plummer started to unbutton his jeans, and pulled them off. Then he took off his underwear, and looked up at Deborah, as if seeking her approval.

Deborah bit her lip. ‘That’s, um. That’s actually smaller than I imagined.’

His cock lay hard against him. A small bead of pre-cum was already forming at the tip. It was probably less than four inches long.

Plummer flushed. ‘It’s not that bad, is it?’

Deborah giggled. ‘You really thought you were going to fuck those two girls with that?’

‘I’ve fucked loads of girls,’ protested Plummer.

‘Yeah? When?’

‘I was a stud in high school… All the girls wanted to get with a hot baseball player.’

‘Sure, until your pants came off,’ said Deborah.

‘That’s not true, I fucked the whole cheer squad!’ said Plummer.

Deborah rolled her eyes. ‘You’re a terrible liar. And I find it funny that even with me being mean to you like this, you’re still rock hard.’ She smiled. ‘You like it, don’t you?’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ said Plummer.

‘You like being treated like this,’ she continued. ‘Being told you’re a small-dicked bitch.’

Plummer let out an involuntary moan, and Deborah smiled even wider.

‘Say it. Say it’s small,’ she said.

‘It’s not…it’s not small,’ Plummer protested.

Deborah sighed. ‘You fucking know it is. You must be so ashamed of it.’ Her eyes lit up. ‘Oh my god, what do you do after baseball practise, when you’re showering? Do the other guys make fun of you for it? Do you try to hide it? How small is it soft; three inches? Two?’

Plummer covered his face with both hands in shame, but his cock stayed hard as ever, leaking precum all over his stomach.

‘Is this too much?’ Deborah asked, putting a hand on his hair and stroking it. ‘I can stop, it’s ok.’

Plummer shook his head. ‘I don’t know… I don’t understand why I like this.’

Deborah got off him and sat next to him on the bed. ‘I don’t know. Maybe there isn’t a reason. Is this the kind of thing you fantasise about?’

‘Sometimes,’ Plummer admitted. ‘I guess I like strong girls. Girls that are kind of mean. In school, there was this chick who had it in for me ‘cos I rejected her best friend or something. She always put me down every chance she got. After a while I started looking forward to it. It was embarrassing but I never made her stop because I kind of liked it.’ He paused. ‘I’ve never told anyone that before.’

‘When I was fifteen I went to the used bookstore a lot,’ Deborah began. ‘One of the books I picked up turned out to be some kind of erotica collection. I didn’t realise when I bought it, I just liked the cool space-age cover. There were a bunch of short stories, but there was one that I read over and over, about a sort of warrior princess, and how the leader of the opposing army fell in love with her and gave up everything to serve her. He would kneel beside her throne, head bowed in respect, hands tied behind his back, while she received diplomats and discussed tactics. I’d never read anything like it before. It made me more aroused than I could even imagine, like being in a trance or something.

‘I couldn’t find anything else like it at the bookstore, but one day I was on the bus and I saw this shady looking little store, with neon signs talking about adult books and films. I was only sixteen at this point, but I don’t think the guy who ran the shop really cared. So I used to go in there and comb through all the books, looking for the ones about masochistic men and stuff. I found some pretty messed up shit, but a lot of it was really hot.’

‘Do you do this with a lot of guys?’ Plummer asked.

‘Dominate them? It depends how much they’re into it. Some guys don’t mind a girl bossing them around once in a while, but others aren’t into it at all, so we can’t really do much,’ Deborah laughed. ‘But there are a lot of guys who like it – really like it. Guys you wouldn’t expect. I’ve had guys beg me to do things to them that even I’m not into. People might not talk about it that much, but it’s not uncommon to like this kind of thing.’

‘Well…I guess,’ said Plummer. ‘Still pretty fucking weird though.’

Deborah shrugged. ‘What would you rather: carry on pretending you’re a big man, baseball star who can fuck any girl he wants, or do what actually gets you hot?’

Plummer didn’t meet her eyes. He just stared at his feet in silence.

Deborah waited, wondering what to do. ‘Hey,’ she said after a moment. ‘Do you wanna go get food? There must be somewhere open 24 hours around here.’

They left the party and walked to the nearest diner. It had shiny green seats and plastic tables and there was a smell of grease and salt in the air. The bright lights overhead made the world outside the windows so black it was invisible, making the diner seem timeless, a no-place, existing outside of reality. Deborah bought them both fries and a shake, and they spent the rest of the night chatting. Tyrone was actually kind of a sweet guy when he wasn’t being a total asshole, Deborah thought. When they both started yawning, they wrote their numbers on napkins and exchanged them, and then went their separate ways.


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is really just backstory, so if you're desperate to get to the porn you can skip it.

The following Tuesday evening, Deborah was lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling, when the phone rang with a loud, jangly tone that jolted her out of her reverie.

She rolled out of bed and picked up the phone. ‘Hi there,’ said Deborah, in a low, slow voice.

‘Hello Deborah, how are you?’ came the unmistakable voice of her mother, cracking down the line all the way from Olympia, Washington.

Whoops, thought Deborah, didn’t mean to use my seductive voice on my mom. ‘I’m good thanks, how about you?’

Her mom filled her in on how the family was doing and the goings on in the neighbourhood, and then asked her how her classes were going and how her friends were.

‘And what about boys?’ her mom asked. ‘Met anyone nice?’

‘I’m not seeing anyone,’ Deborah said. ‘I’m just…keeping my options open.’

‘Keeping your options open? What does that mean? You’re sleeping around?’

Deborah laughed in shock, ‘Mom… Do we have to talk about this?’

‘What happened to that nice boy you were seeing? Elijah?’

‘Him? We went on one date, and he turned out to be a fundamentalist Mormon. Please tell me you don’t think I should have stuck with him.’

‘There’s nothing wrong with believing in God,’ her mom replied.

‘I know, but we had nothing in common and he had the most outdated ideas about women. It was ridiculous. I’m here to get a degree, not a husband. It’s 1980. It’s a new era.’

‘Just don’t get pregnant, ok?’ her mom said.

Deborah made a choking noise. ‘Yep. Mmhm,’ she managed to squeak out.

***

When she had told her friend David, back in the liberal haven of Washington state, that she was going to college in Texas, he was shocked.

_Texas?_

_It was the only place that accepted me_ , Deborah replied.

 _I love you and I’m happy for you, but what made you apply in the first place?_ he had asked.

In truth, Deborah wasn’t sure what about the college had appealed to her – and it hadn’t been her first choice anyway. She had a suspicion, however, that it was because in their junior year a girl from Texas had transferred to their school. Her name was Julie and Deborah had fallen half in love with her. Julie was extraverted and unselfconscious, with a musical accent, sun bleached hair and, most devastatingly of all, freckles. With men, Deborah was cool and collected, merciless, a femme fatale, she was Wanda von Dunajew – or at least, that’s how she liked to think of herself. With women she was vanilla, and to tell the truth, a total sap; a blushing, stammering mess.

Julie had sat next to Deborah in Chemistry and Deborah had sweated through two layers of clothing.

 _I think she likes me_ , she had told David. _She was so nice, she was asking me all these questions. I think we really have a connection... Why are you making that face?_

_She’s like that with everyone, Deborah. It’s a southern thing, that niceness, that’s what my mom says._

_Your mom’s from Washington D.C., that’s hardly the south._

He shrugged. _Sorry to be a downer._

But since then, something about Texas had felt magnetic to her.

By Deborah’s senior year at college, Julie had got married and moved to Spokane.

***

Liberal as her hometown was, Deborah felt like if she could leave Olympia, if she could leave the state, she could be whoever she wanted. If she went somewhere nobody knew her, she could be free to party and fuck and experiment with drugs without the weight of people’s expectations and preconceptions. But when she got to Texas, she was horrified to discover that she was still the same person, and everyone else was pretty much the same as the people she’d known in Olympia. Apparently college life wasn’t like the movies, either, and people didn’t just turn to you in lectures and invite you to their parties. Furthermore, everyone was way too straight in this town. So Deborah spent the first year of college pretty much just holed up in her dorm, reading her pulpy erotica.

She missed David terribly, too. All four of Deborah and David’s parents thought they were sleeping together. It was pretty amazing, really, that they refused to be told otherwise and failed to notice that David was gay. They just thought their kids were being coy, it seemed. Eventually Deborah and David just went with it. They had sleepovers at one of their houses almost every weekend. Their parents were pre-hippie generation, but they weren’t total squares, and had no reservations about yelling ‘Use a condom!’ for the whole street to hear as they let their kid out the car. The situation was embarrassing, but it worked for them overall, as it kept speculation about either of their sexualities at bay and Deborah’s mother off her back about marriage.

So, Deborah and David sat around in their bedrooms, listening to records and talking about their crushes and the state of the world. Eventually they’d fall asleep, tangled up in each other’s arms, which would be taken as clear proof of sexual relations by whoever’s mom opened the door in the morning to tell them to get up.

It’s true though, David told Deborah one of these mornings, with his head rested on her chest. If I wasn’t gay, I think we’d be soulmates.

 _Ew,_ Deborah had said, and flicked his ear with her finger. _‘Soulmates’. Honestly._


	4. Chapter 3

Deborah hadn’t seen her roommate in a week. This was pretty normal, because Sandra was always staying with her boyfriend, who was an actual adult man with his own house and job in a bank, or something. Amazingly, their relationship had managed to survive over the summer even though Sandra lived all the way up in Alaska. Deborah liked Sandra, but she still considered having to share a bedroom with another person to be inhumane. Still, maybe she should take advantage of the empty dorm to call someone over.

With guys, Deborah liked to make them be the one to call. She wanted to seem cool and detached, although, she also reasoned, it might be sexier if she were the pursuer. She knew she should probably just do whatever she felt like, but she was an over-thinker above all else.

She reached for the phone and dialled Plummer’s number.

‘You’ve reached Tyrone Plummer, the famed gigolo,’ came a voice that was definitely not Tyrone Plummer. ‘My rates are $50 per hour. How may I help you?’

‘Give that back,’ came Plummer’s distant voice. ‘You’re crazy, man. What even is a gigolo?’

Then he was clearer. ‘Hey, who is this?’

‘It’s me, Deborah,’ said Deborah. ‘What’s up?’

‘Deborah, wow. How have you been?’

‘I’ve been pretty good, how about you?’

‘Coach has been kicking my ass on the field,’ he replied. ‘I ache all over.’

‘Aw, that’s too bad. You should tell that fascist where to stick it.’

‘Ha, as if.’

‘Do you want to hang out?’ asked Deborah.

‘Yeah. Yeah I do.’

***

Thirty minutes later, Plummer turned up at her door. He was wearing a polo shirt, shorts, and a yellow baseball cap with the letter ‘P’ embroidered on it.

‘Cute,’ said Deborah. ‘Is that P for Plummer?’

Plummer looked flustered as he stepped inside her room, and took the cap off. Man, he really was cute. All she wanted to do was grab him and slam him up against a wall.

So she did.

They kissed hard, Deborah’s hand moving from Plummer’s shoulder to grab his hair, the other keeping him pinned to the wall. He was taller and stronger than her, but she had complete power over him in that moment.

‘Let’s move to the bed,’ she said, and he willingly complied. He lay down and she got on top of him and this felt right, this felt like exactly where she needed to be, and she leant down and kissed him again, pushing her long hair out of her face.

‘I’ve just realised what’s different about kissing you,’ Deborah said. ‘You don’t taste like cigarettes.’

‘Do you want me to taste like cigarettes?’ asked Plummer, frowning.

‘No, no, it’s just most of the people I’ve kissed smoke all the time. Don’t start.’

‘I wouldn’t, coach would kill me.’

Deborah took off her top, Plummer looking mesmerised as she did so. Soon they were both naked.

‘Tyrone, I want you to call me Mistress,’ said Deborah.

He nodded. ‘Ok…Mistress,’ he said, blushing slightly as he did so.

‘Do you like this?’ she asked.

‘Yes Mistress,’ he said. And then, ‘Please…please, I’m so hard.’

Deborah looked down at his cock. ‘Oh, I didn’t even notice. I’d forgotten how small you are.’

Plummer squirmed.

‘No, I don’t think it deserves to be touched. It’s too pathetic and little.’ Plummer looked crestfallen. ‘How about I sit on your face instead, bitchboy?’

After Plummer had given Deborah three orgasms, she finally jerked him off and let him cum. On one condition.

‘Ugh, it tastes horrible,’ he moaned as he licked his cum of her fingers.

Deborah just giggled.

***

After Deborah and Plummer had been seeing each other for a couple of weeks, he finally let her come over to the house he shared with his teammates.

‘Just…be normal, you know?’ he said.

‘I’m not going to show up cracking a whip or anything, chill out.’

Plummer gave her a look that communicated that he wouldn’t put it past her.

He opened the door to the house and they walked in. A few of Plummer’s fellow baseball players were sitting around, watching Happy Days on the TV. An orange cat was rubbing itself against the sofa.

‘What’s with this cat?’ Plummer asked.

‘It just walked in, I don’t know where it came from,’ said one of the players with a moustache. ‘Looks like it’s not the only pussy in the house, though,’ he said, smirking at Deborah.

‘Excuse me?’ she said, and looked at Plummer expectantly. But Plummer was too busy on the floor stroking the cat, which was cute and all, but not really what she needed from him right now.

‘So, what’s your name,’ Moustache was asking her.

‘It’s Deborah,’ she said coldly.

‘That’s a beautiful name,’ he replied.

‘No, it’s not. Come on Tyrone, let’s go upstairs.’

Plummer gave the cat one last pet and went up the stairs with her. They went into his room and Deborah closed the door behind her.

‘Get on the fucking floor,’ she told him.

Plummer looked shocked, but dropped automatically to his knees.

‘Now kiss my feet.’

He did so, and then Deborah dug a hand in his hair and forced him to look at her.

‘What the fuck is wrong with you, letting him disrespect me back there?’

‘That’s just how those guys talk, he doesn’t mean anything by it,’ he said uneasily.

‘I don’t give a shit, it was sexist and rude,’ she replied. ‘And what do you call me?’

‘Mistress,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry Mistress. What are you…what are you going to do to me?’

She sat down on the edge of his bed. ‘Get over my knee.’

Plummer obeyed, looking apprehensive. She pulled his shorts and underwear down and rubbed his round ass. Then she landed a loud smack on the plumpest part. Plummer moaned, and Deborah felt his cock grow hard against her thigh. She was feeling distinctly aroused too. She spanked his ass until it was bright red and she felt like she was right on the edge of cumming.

‘Have you learned your lesson now, bitch?’

He nodded yes, seemingly incapable of speech.

‘You’re still not off the hook though,’ she warned. She reached into her bag and pulled out a phallic metal object.

‘What is that? It looks like some kind of medieval torture device, man.’

‘Don’t be silly, it won’t hurt you. If anything it will keep your little cock nice and safe.’

Plummer took it and turned it over in his hands, studying it.

‘It’s a chastity cage. I got it from a sex shop in San Francisco,’ she said.

‘How does it work?’

‘I’ll show you.’ Deborah fitted the device on Plummer’s penis and clicked the padlock shut.

She pulled her necklace out from under her shirt. There was a small silver key dangling from the chain. ‘See – I’ve got the key right here, safe. I control when and how you cum.’

‘So…’ said Plummer, looking down at his locked up cock, ‘you have control over my dick?’

‘Exactly,’ said Deborah, smiling sweetly. ‘I think it’s better this way, don’t you? You’re an eighteen-year-old guy, hormones running all over the place. This way, I know you’ll be my devoted bitch, see what I mean?’

‘Your devoted…’ Plummer swallowed nervously.

‘Are you ok with that?’ she asked.

He looked at her, and then down at his locked cock. ‘I just want to please you,’ he said.

‘Good boy,’ she said.

‘So uh, what now, Mistress? Shall I eat you out?

‘That’s an idea, but how about we try something new… Have you ever played with your asshole?’

‘No, never,’ said Plummer, blushing furiously.

‘What do you think about it?’

‘You’re really into role-reversal, huh?’

‘I don’t think of it as role-reversal,’ said Deborah. ‘I think women on top is the way things should be. Don’t you agree?’

Soon, Plummer was lying on the bed with his legs spread, Deborah caressing his thighs, then lightly stroking his asshole. Plummer moaned.

‘You’re so sensitive,’ Deborah remarked. She took some lube out of her bag and squeezed it onto her fingers before going back to stroking his hole.

‘Ohhh…’ Plummer moaned. ‘I had no idea it would feel this good.’

‘Want me to put a finger in?’ she asked.

‘Y-yes, Mistress,’ Plummer said breathlessly.

Deborah slid one finger into his hole, enjoying the way Plummer’s mouth opened in ecstasy as she did so.

‘You like that?’ she asked. ‘Like having my fingers inside you?’

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Oh, fuck…’

‘Such a bitch,’ Deborah said quietly, smiling. ‘My good bitch.’

‘God…what have you done to me, Deborah?’ he asked.

***

‘Let’s work here,’ said Lori. ‘It’s nice and quiet.’

Deborah and Lori put their bags on the table and sat down. They had come to the library on a Saturday morning to study together, in the hope that they would finally make sense of what Professor Handcock had been droning on about for weeks.

‘Alright,’ said Deborah, opening her American Revolution textbook. ‘Do you want to go over the battle of Yorktown?

‘Sounds good,’ replied Lori.

They tested each other on the facts for a while, then Lori leaned back in her chair and got a certain look in her eye.

‘So… Did anything happen with you and that baseball player?’

‘Yeah,’ said Deborah. ‘We’ve been…seeing each other.’

‘Interesting,’ said Lori. ‘And what does ‘seeing each other’ mean?’

‘We’ve been hanging out,’ Deborah said, smiling.

‘Does that mean candle-lit dinners? Or wild sex?’

‘Shh!’ said Deborah, looking around for eavesdroppers. ‘Ok,’ she said, leaning in closer to Lori and lowering her voice. ‘We have been having sex.’ She chose not to elaborate on the kind of sex they were having.

‘Hell yeah! Good for you, girl!’ said Lori.

Deborah laughed. ‘Yeah, it’s good.’

‘So what do you think – quick fling, or will it become something more?’

‘Oh um, I don’t know,’ Deborah said. ‘Just seeing how it goes, I guess.’

Lori considered that for a moment. ‘You like him, don’t you?’ she asked.

And then, infuriatingly, Deborah started to blush. ‘Yeah, maybe I do.’

‘But isn’t he just some dumb jock?’

‘Well…yeah,’ replied Deborah. ‘But I don’t know…I’m into him.’

***

Lori had been right, Deborah thought as she headed over to Plummer’s on Wednesday. She did like him. A lot. Too much. She grimaced. She had mixed feelings about crushes. On the one hand, they could be great if you were actually sleeping with the person you had a crush on. But on the other hand, they kind of took over your life, and made Deborah feel like she wasn’t in control of her own emotions – and if there was one thing Deborah liked to be, it was in control.

She had reached Plummer’s door now, so she rang the bell.

After a few seconds, the door opened, and there Plummer stood, cradling the orange cat in his arms.

‘Hi,’ he said, and leaned in to kiss her.

‘You kept the cat then?’

‘How could we not? He’s a cool little dude. We’ve named him Rickey Henderson.’

Deborah assumed that was some baseball star.

Once they were in his room she wasted no time in slamming him up against the wall and kissing him. She pressed herself against him and felt the hard metal chastity cage, which made her smile against his mouth.

‘Is your little cock getting hard in there?’ she asked him.

‘Fuck yes,’ he replied. ‘It’s been agony not being able to touch it…getting so horny and not being able to get relief. Please Mistress, please let me out.’

‘Maybe if you’re very good.’

‘How can I be good for you?’

‘Well…I brought a new toy with me today.’

Plummer looked both turned on and apprehensive, which was probably Deborah’s favourite expression on him.

‘Get on the bed,’ she ordered him.

He immediately complied. She opened her bag and pulled out of it a big, thick dildo attached to a strappy leather harness.

Plummer’s eyes went wide. ‘Are you…are you going to…’

‘What?’ she said.

His voice dropped to a whisper. ‘Are you going to fuck me with that?’

‘I’d like to. But Tyrone –’ she sat down next to him ‘– you can always say no, you know that right? No matter what it is, you can say no at any time.’

Plummer nodded. Then he put his head in his hands.

‘Honey, what’s wrong?’ she said, concerned. ‘I’m sorry, I’ll put it away.’

Tyrone took his head out of his hands and gave her a tortured look. ‘It’s not that,’ he said. ‘If that cage wasn’t on I’d be so fucking hard right now. I want it, I want it so badly. I can’t believe what a slut you’ve made me.’

‘Oh fuck,’ said Deborah, suddenly ecstatic. ‘I need to fuck you right now.’ She kissed him again and started pulling off his shirt. When it was off she flung it away and pushed him down into the bed, then removed his trousers too. Soon he was fully naked aside from the chastity cage containing his cock, which was hopelessly straining against the bars. She took off her own clothes and buckled the strapon around her hips.

She loved how it felt hanging between her legs, heavy and thick. She had owned the strapon for a while, but had used it less than she would have liked. Few guys were into this kind of thing, and fewer admitted to it. Deborah looked down at Plummer, lying beneath her as she straddled him, his cock seeming even smaller in comparison to hers. The mix of desire and shame that felt like it was radiating off him was intoxicating to her.

She kissed him again, she stroked his thighs, she felt him spread them apart for her, for her cock. She saw him below her, dick hard as it could be in its cage, waiting for her to take him, just waiting like a good slut.

So after fingering his arsehole, she pushed her cock into him, fucking him open for the first time. He moaned loudly and swore, and she started fucking him, in and out, feeling herself get more aroused as she heard him moan with each thrust into his tight arsehole.

‘You like that, don’t you bitchboy?’

‘Yes Mistress,’ he said.

Deborah loved how powerful she felt fucking him like this, and seeing him coming undone underneath her. One of Plummer’s hands was reaching for his caged cock, and he was obviously desperate to touch himself. She took the hand and pinned it to the bed.

‘I want you to only cum from your arsehole,’ she told him as he moaned, and with her other hand she delivered a sharp slap to the back of his thigh. ‘Otherwise, you don’t get to cum.’ It was then that she noticed the precum dribbling from his cock. ‘You want it so much don’t you. Such a desperate slut… I bet you want to cum so badly.’

‘I do anything,’ he said, breathing hard. ‘Anything.’

He didn’t cum that day. She did, twice.


	5. Chapter 4

‘What’s that on your face?’

Plummer raised his hand self-consciously to his upper lip. ‘I’m growing a moustache. Don’t you like it?’

‘It looks like one of Rickey Henderson’s furballs.’

Plummer sighed. ‘Can I come in? Or am I not allowed because you don’t like my groovy moustache?’

Deborah laughed. ‘You are something else, man. “Groovy”. Shut up and come in here.’

It was a Wednesday evening, and Deborah and Plummer had planned a night in – wine and a movie. When the movie ended the news came on. It was mid-October, and election campaigning was reaching a furious pitch.

‘Ugh, fuck this guy,’ said Deborah as Ronald Reagan’s grinning face appeared on the television screen. ‘“Let’s Make America Great Again”. As if it ever was.’

The news anchor reported that Jimmy Carter was leading in the opinion polls. ‘That’s a relief,’ said Deborah. ‘Who are you voting for, Tyrone?’

‘Oh uhh, I don’t know,’ he replied. ‘I’m not really political, man. I probably won’t bother.’

‘You can’t not be political. This is about our country, our future.’

‘Well, my parents always vote Republican,’ said Plummer, looking at her nervously.

‘Are you going to do what your parents do or are you going to think for yourself? Seriously, you should read up on this stuff, maybe open a newspaper every once in a while.’

‘Ok, whatever,’ he replied. ‘What if I don’t? Are you going to send me to the Gulag for re-education?’

Deborah gave him a withering look and turned back to the television. ‘That’s not even funny.’

***

The next day, Deborah woke late. She needed to pee, but her body felt heavy, and all she wanted to do was sink back into sleep. She looked at the clock. She had to get up now or she’d be late to class. With effort, she left her bed and shuffled into the bathroom. She wondered if a hot shower would wake her up, but afterwards she felt just as slow and dull as she had before. She got dressed and had breakfast, then left the building. She got to class just on time, and headed to the back of the room. All she wanted to do was go back to sleep, and as the professor started talking she realised there was no way she would be able to take any of the information in. After what seemed like decades, the lecture finished, and Deborah headed home, wondering why she had bothered to get out of bed at all.

Crawling back into bed, Deborah longed for sleep, but it wouldn’t come. She thought about putting on some music, but for some reason every record she owned seemed dull and overplayed. Reading a book felt like too much effort, and doing homework was out of the question. Instead she just lay there, staring at the ceiling.

 _Fuck, I’m depressed_ , she suddenly realised. It happened once a month or so, she would get like this. Sad, hopeless, and lethargic. All she could do was wait for it to pass.

Her mind drifted towards Plummer. They had been seeing each other for just over a month now. A month was usually about the time a guy she was seeing would pull away. In fact, none of them had ever lasted longer than that. _And why would they?_ She thought. _Yeah, I turn them on, but it’s too risky for them to be with someone like me. They always say something like ‘This has been fun, but I don’t see a future with you’, or just stop talking to me altogether. And if I wasn’t a dominatrix, would anyone want to be with me? That’s really my only attraction. Apart from that I’m pretty boring. I guess it’s only a matter of time before Plummer goes the way of all the others._

***

That Saturday, Plummer and the rest of his team were up early, ready to take the bus to the next city over, where they would be playing a friendly match against another college baseball team. His teammates were joking around and teasing each other as they got changed, but something was weighing on Plummer as he pulled on his socks. He wished he hadn’t made that joke about the Gulag the other night. He hadn’t really been sure what they were when he’d said that, but he’d since read its entry in the encyclopaedia and it sounded horrifying. Maybe Deborah had been offended, it was hard to tell with her. He had to make it right, somehow. He wondered if it was being raised Catholic that gave him such a strong sense of guilt – although at the same time, admitting he’d been wrong was always kind of hard for him. When he’d done that, he thought, he should probably do some more research on the election. He’d asked around among his friends, and of the ones who were voting, all of them were Democrats. From what they said, the Republicans sounded like pretty uncool guys.

Plummer finished lacing up his shoes and filed out along with his teammates, but instead of heading straight for the bus, he stopped by the phone that was in the hallway between the changing room and the parking lot and dialled Deborah’s number.

‘Hello?’ came Deborah’s voice after a few rings.

‘Hey Deborah, it’s me.’

‘Oh, hi. What’s up? Do you want to hang out?’

‘I can’t, I’ve got to get on a bus and go to Dallas,’ he replied.

‘Oh…right,’ she said.

‘It’s for a baseball game.’

‘Hey, Plummer!’ shouted McReynolds, striding back through the doorway. ‘Get on the fucking bus, man, we don’t have all day.’

‘Just a second, man!’ Plummer said back. ‘Look, Deborah. I think I need to tell you something. This is difficult to say, but I have to tell you that-’

‘Plummer!’ shouted McReynolds again, snatching the phone out of his hand. ‘Bus. Now.’ And with that he slammed the phone back down on the receiver.

***

A couple of miles away, Deborah stared at the phone which had just gone dead in her hand. She suddenly felt very hollow inside. What else could Tyrone possibly been about to say to her other than that he didn’t want to see her anymore? _At least I knew it was coming_ , she said to herself as she crawled back into her bed. _At least it wasn’t a shock_. She felt like a fool for letting this happen again. Every time, every fucking time, she told herself that she wasn’t getting attached, that if anyone was getting their heart broken it would be him. And every time they left her, and when they did she wanted them even more.

Maybe the novelty had worn off for Tyrone. Maybe the doubt had set in. Boys always felt ashamed of the way they felt about her. Their future was marriage, kids, an office job, or maybe even a career in politics or sports. Something like this coming out could make them a public laughing-stock.

When the new week rolled around, Deborah continued to drag herself to class, but her depression had escalated into full on heartbreak. Her mood cycled between the empty, hollow feeling, intermittent rage at Plummer, and lump-in-the-throat despair. She replayed memories of being with him over and over until she couldn’t bear it anymore.

She had even begun to avoid her friends. Lori had said something about having a party, but Deborah couldn’t think of anything she wanted to do less than talk to people or dance.

On Wednesday evening, the phone rang. Deborah felt exhausted after a day in class and didn’t even make a move to pick it up. It was probably her mom, who would be able to tell something was wrong, and she really didn’t want to discuss it with her. Or maybe it was Lori, calling about the upcoming party which Deborah just wanted to pretend she had forgotten about. That Plummer might be calling her barely crossed her mind, and when it did she assumed he would only be wanting to dump her properly. She knew if he did that she would cry on the phone to him, and she had too much pride to let him hear that.

***

Two weeks later, on Tuesday 4th August, Deborah went out to vote. She wasn’t in a pit of despair anymore, but she still missed Plummer. She had stopped avoiding her friends, and one of them, the Californian Barbara, had lent her a weird New Age-y book about dealing with break-ups or, according to the subtitle, _Letting go, moving on, and rediscovering your inner spirit as a strong, solo, daughter of Earth_. It offered advice ranging from witchcraft to screaming in the woods, and to be fair it was helping, even if it was only because it gave her something to laugh about.

As she entered the polling booth, she thought about Plummer, wondering if he was bothering to vote today. Probably not, she thought.

That night she watched the results come in, and when Jimmy Carter conceded defeat she felt sick to her stomach and ready to roll back into the depression nest of the previous month. Maybe she should take Barbara’s book’s advice and leave society behind to become a goatherd in the wilderness, or something.

***

The next day Deborah was walking to class with Lori, both of them looking and feeling grim. As she approached the Humanities building she heard a shout from across the quad. At first she didn’t turn, but then she realised that whoever it was was shouting her name. She turned and squinted.

 _Oh my god_ , she thought, _it’s Plummer, yelling and running towards me._

Lori had seen him too. ‘What’s he saying?’ she asked Deborah.

‘I VOTED FOR JIMMY CARTER!’ shouted Plummer. ‘I VOTED FOR JIMMY CARTER!’

And then he was in front of her, breathing hard.

‘I- Tyrone, what’s going on?’

‘I did what you said. I did my research and I voted for Jimmy Carter.’

‘Ok, great,’ Deborah said. ‘Why are you telling me this?’

Plummer looked nonplussed. ‘That’s what is has all been about, hasn’t it? Politics?’

‘What what has all been about,’ replied Deborah, now equally nonplussed.

‘You being mad at me,’ said Plummer.

‘But you’re the one who broke things off with me!’

‘Broke things… Deborah, I called you three times in one week and you never picked up.’

‘That was you?’

‘Of course it was me,’ he said.

‘You mean you…’ and Deborah could hardly believe what was happening but the words tumbled out before she had a chance to stop them — ‘you still want to be with me?’

‘Want to be with you? Deborah I- I dig you. Real hard.’

Deborah had started to smile wider almost than she knew she could. ‘Yeah. I dig you too Tyrone.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Yes, Reagan’s campaign slogan really was ‘Let’s Make America Great Again’. History repeats itself.
> 
> 2\. This is my third fic involving sport. I really don’t understand why this keeps happening.
> 
> 3\. I read on IMDb that Deborah is spelt ‘Debra’, but that was when I was already about 5000 words in and I wasn’t about to change the spelling of every instance of her name.


End file.
